Heaven
by Sela McGrane
Summary: Harry Potter gets a glimpse of the past, and sees his Transfiguration Professor in a whole new way. For Minerva, she's spent more than forty years trying to forget two stolen kisses, and the young man who tasted like heaven. HP/MM


**Hello all! I have no earthly idea where this came from, but I couldn't stop writing it. No, I've not forgotten Telling Time. Yes, you'll have an update for that soon. Will this be continued? Not likely, however for the sake of my Beta's personal hatred for RW/HG, if I were going to continue this Ron and Hermione would be going their separate ways. This is not about Ron and Hermione, however. It's about Harry. Harry and Minerva. Weird, I know, but you've all seen me post the odd weird ship before, and you never seem too put out. I do hope you enjoy this! Warmest regards!**

* * *

It was a surprisingly warm afternoon in late March of nineteen seventy-five, and to the shock of one Severus Snape, a fourth year Slytherin, a grown wizard and a grown witch suddenly appeared before him, wearing identical expressions of confusion.

Mere seconds before, in the year nineteen fifty-three, the witch had been talking to her friend Eileen about how if ever she were to have a son - though she knew she never would - she would call him _Severus_.

At the very same time, the wizard had been walking the grounds of Hogwarts - newly put back together after the battle that past May - thinking about the man who Eileen would eventually mother, naming him Severus and naming her dear friend godmother. Severus Tobias Snape had died in that awful battle, and the wizard had been remembering his regrets as only a grown man was prone to do, and upon whispering the dead man's name, night had melted to day, time and space had warped, and suddenly the man had been transported more than twenty years into his past, as the woman had been transported more than twenty years into her future.

The wizard, it seemed, had both Severus and the mystery witch at a disadvantage, as after a few seconds of study he was able to identify them both. "Snape," he whispered, looking in horror at the teenager. "McGonagall?" he croaked, looking even more pale.

"You know me?" Snape asked.

"Sort of," the wizard said. "I'm Harry. I know neither of you know me yet."

Snape peered intently at the woman, this _McGonagall_ as Harry had identified, and recognized a similar bearing of his Transfiguration Professor. "Are you related to Professor Minerva McGonagall?" he asked, curious.

"I _am_ Minerva McGonagall," she bristled. "Though I don't know about being a Professor. I've only just graduated Hogwarts!"

"So you're from… fifty-four then?" Harry asked. "I think you were teaching by fifty-six. Or rather, you will be. Oh. I probably shouldn't have told you that."

"You're from the future, then?" Minerva inquired, curious.

"Uh, yeah," he muttered.

All the while this exchange was going on, Severus was watching the two strangers, eying their body language and being highly annoyed at the way they both blushed at one another. This woman… the younger version of his Transfiguration Professor and godmother … was unashamedly eyeing the dark haired wizard, this Harry bloke, and Severus found it unnerving. "When are you from, exactly?" he asked, looking at the man who looked irritatingly like his nemesis, James Potter.

"Nineteen ninety-eight," Harry answered with a shrug, seeing no harm in saying that much.

"So…" Severus did the math in his head… "Aunt Minerva, would you kindly stop ogling a bloke that is more than forty years your junior, assuming you're even still alive then."

"Aunt?" Minerva asked, frowning.

"You're my godmother. Eileen Prince is my mum. Well, not Prince anymore but I guess I shouldn't tell you who my father ends up being."

Minerva smiled brightly, thinking of the conversation she'd had with her best friend, only minutes prior from her perspective. "Fancy that. I think I picked out your name!"

"Yes," Severus drawed. "A fact you mentioned at least once a week when I first started Hogwarts."

Harry laughed. "Wow does this explain a lot about you two."

"I get how you would know _her_ ," Severus mused, "but how do you know me?"

"Uh…" Harry looked at his shoes. "It's… complicated. We didn't get on very well, I'm afraid."

"You're Potter's kid!" Severus accused, looking furious.

Harry's eyes widened at the venom in the boy's voice, and that was when Severus noticed the color; a familiar green. "Maybe?" Harry said.

"With Lily," Severus muttered, looking miserable.

"Stop talking, both of you," Minerva ordered, and both wizards snapped to. Even though Minerva was hardly older than Harry in the here and now, he knew her as his Professor and knew she wasn't to be crossed. Severus, of course, had never known Minerva as anything but an authority figure. "Severus, as fun as this has been, to glimpse a bit of the future, Harry and I obviously don't belong here. Is Dippet still Headmaster? We ought to see if he can set things right before we impact Harry's timeline, or I learn something that might impact mine when I get back. Obviously I do make it back to my time, if I'm in Harry's future. Oh, Dippet had been planning to retire, hadn't he? He'll have done that by now. Who replaces him?"

"Dumbledore," Harry and Severus said at the same time.

Minerva lit up at that. "Really? Well that's splendid. Dippet is great and all, but he's not really the sort to handle surprises well. Dumbledore will be a great help."

Harry chuckled. "Give it time, Professor McGonagall. You'll be calling him a _crazy old coot_ in a few years, with great regularity."

The young witch cringed. "Honestly Harry, just call me _Minerva_. You're my age for Merlin's sake, and I won't be your professor for another…"

"Sixteen years," he supplied helpfully. "I'm not even born yet."

"I guess you guys know where the Headmaster's office is, so I'll just be off," Severus said, eying the visitors. "Oh, and Harry?"

"Yeah, Sn...Severus?" Harry asked, stumbling over the name in an effort not to reveal to Minerva who the teens father would ultimately be.

"If I'm right, and Lily is your mum…" he paused. "Well, you're lucky to have her."

Harry smiled, but said nothing. A curt nod later, the young Slytherin walked away, leaving the two out-of-time people alone.

* * *

XOX

* * *

Minerva led, which Harry was fine with. He was used to her taking the lead, and even if she was his age at the moment - which was really weird - he was still content to walk behind her. At least, he had been until he noticed that the skirt she was wearing showed off her long legs, slender waist, and a rather nice bum that just begged to be looked at as her hips swayed with her every step. In an effort to _not_ notice how attractive a body his Professor back in his time was apparently hiding under modest clothing, he started looking at the walls they were walking along. It wasn't as if _his_ McGonagall was someone he'd ever thought _wasn't_ good-looking, but he'd never outright found her attractive. Who was he bloody kidding? This woman, in any time, was beautiful. Stunning, really, if he was being perfectly honest with himself.

"So, Harry," Minerva said, slowing so that he fell in step beside her instead of behind as they walked toward the Headmaster's office. "Have you got a girlfriend?"

He stopped short at the question, and she stopped with him. "No," he admitted, briefly thinking about how, after it all, he and Ginny had decided that they'd both changed too much to consider dating again.

"Oh, good," she said, grinning. "As while I'm horribly impulsive sometimes, I don't condone cheating."

"Cheating?" he asked, perplexed. What was she going on about?

His mental question was answered by Minerva, or rather by her soft lips pressed fiercely into his. Her fingers ran through his hair, and on instinct he kissed her back, arms wrapping around her waist and pulling her close. The kiss went on for a long minute before Harry remembered _who_ he was kissing and pulled away.

"Hmmm," Minerva mumbled into his shoulder. "You taste like heaven."

"You're my Professor," Harry gently reminded her.

"There, perhaps," Minerva admitted. "But not here."

"Why did you kiss me?"

"Don't like regret," she admitted. "And… I don't know, Harry. I know I've only really known you a half hour, but I feel… I guess it's about you being in the same boat as I am right now. Had I shown up here, alone, I'd have been horribly frightened. But you were there too, and while I didn't know you, you knew _me_ , and that was a comfort. I guess it was a thank you kiss."

"Well," he said, grinning. "While I had absolutely no control over this, you're welcome. I'd be a damn fool to complain when a beautiful woman decides to snog me."

"Ah," a voice nearly identical to Minerva's said. "So today is _that_ day."

The two teens turned around to see Minerva's older - probably forty years old - counterpart. Harry took in _this_ McGonagall's appearance and found that while she was far more conservative than the girl he'd just been kissed by, she still had a great figure and the same emerald eyes were looking him over. Sure, there were a few lines on this woman's face now, but nothing extreme. He thought about his own McGonagall and how really, she had hardly changed a bit between now and his own time.

The younger McGonagall grinned at her older self. "Well, I'm gunna age well!" she said with a smirk. "Say, Harry, am I still this good looking in another twenty years?"

"Don't answer that," the elder witch commanded. "Trust me, I know, her ego needs no more help."

Harry wasn't really paying much attention to the women as they chatted for a minute about, well, themselves, as he was busy thinking about the book on temporal law that he'd read after the experience with the timeturner and Hermione back in third year. "Oh!" he said suddenly, causing both women to jump. "I get it!"

The elder McGonagall smiled at him. "Do share with the class, Harry," she said.

"You have already experienced what _she's_ experiencing now, so you already know how to send us home!"

"Wow, that's just… odd to think about," the younger Minerva stated. "But it makes sense. Just like I am now, you met an older version of you when you were here. It's a loop!"

"Quite," the elder agreed. "Now if you'd follow me, it really is prudent that you are seen by nobody else. It's lucky the person you already interacted with is so good at keeping secrets."

"Already?" Harry asked, frowning as he thought about his parents, and Sirius and Remus. "Can't I just… see a few people? I don't have to talk to them… I just want to…"

"I'm sorry, but you cannot," the Professor of this time said firmly.

Harry wanted to be angry at her for not understanding, but she had no way of knowing that the kids she knew now, who would be his parents in a few years time, wouldn't live to see him grow up. As much as he wanted to just _tell her_ , to somehow try and change her mind, he knew that he could not risk altering the timeline, and by telling her that much he'd be placing a burden on her shoulders she'd have to carry for years and years to come. That wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to him either, but he wasn't selfish enough to put that on McGonagall. He respected her far too much.

A few minutes later, they arrived at the entry to the Room of Requirement. "Minerva, here's what you must do," the older McGonagall directed. It was simple, really. The Room of Requirement could bend space, Harry knew that, but apparently it could bend time as well. According to the older, Scottish woman, it was only able to create a portal through time if the person trying to travel was already out of their timeline, just the way that Harry and the younger Minerva were.

"Guess I'll see you in twenty years and change," the girl who kissed him remarked. "When you get home, you'll have to let _your_ Minerva know that for you, this has happened. She won't be aware, of course."

"I'll consider it," he promised. "If I can figure out how to look at my Professor without thinking about kissing her."

The girl laughed, hugged him, and skipped through the door that would lead back to her own time. After the door faded into the wall, Harry looked at the Professor. Not _his_ Professor, but at least someone with whom existed some professional boundaries. "Your turn, Harry," she said softly.

"It's weird, you know, hearing you call me by my name," he commented. He could only remember two occasions in which he'd heard her _say_ his first name. First, it had been the day he came to Hogwarts, when she'd called his name to be sorted. Then, two years and change later, when he'd overheard McGonagall talking in the Three Broomsticks about his previously unknown relationship to Sirius. It was always just… _Mister Potter_ , or to be slightly less formal, only _Potter_."

"Well as you didn't tell my younger counterpart your last name," she reasoned, "I can't really address you properly now can I? I don't know how to."

"It's…"

"Don't tell me, please," she begged, pressing her fingers to his lips. "It's hard enough to see you here, now, so very much younger than me already, when I cannot forget that one impulsive kiss we shared. I don't want to meet your eleven year old self, or even younger if I happen to know you prior to the start of your education here, and already know who you are."

He nodded in understanding. "Right then, I guess I better go."

Just before he stepped through the door, he felt this lurch in his gut that made him turn and look at the older witch again. Whatever had spurred the Minerva his own age to kiss him seemed to have lingered over the years, because _this_ Minerva was still looking at him _that way_. He very much doubted that the McGonagall of his time would see him as anything but a child, so this was really going to be his last chance to kiss those lips if he wanted it. And despite himself, Harry Potter _wanted_ to kiss Minerva McGonagall.

"Come here," he muttered, reaching out and grabbing her face, pulling her into a kiss. While he was no more experienced now than he was when the younger Minerva had kissed _him,_ this Minerva was no longer completely innocent. Like Harry, this Minerva had known the pleasures of sex, and it was obvious in the way she responded to his touch. Her confidence made him bolder, pushing her against the wall and running his hands over her curves, trying to commit them to memory.

"Gods, Harry," she moaned. "You still taste like heaven…"

"You taste like home," he admitted softly, slowly ending the kiss before they did something that he knew he wasn't prepared to do with a Minerva he couldn't stay with. "How am I going to face you when I get back?"

"I don't know," she uttered, slipping her arms around him snuggly. "But by the time I see you again, see you the man I shared two kisses with, and not the boy who is my student, I'll be an old woman, Harry. This is it, for us. It's been… well it's been exciting to say the least, but don't pine over what could have been. We're from two different times."

He nodded, but said nothing, because despite what she was saying he couldn't help but wonder if, in another twenty years, her kiss would still make him feel like he had everything he'd ever wanted. He wondered if the Minerva that belonged in his own time could see past his age and consider pursuing what had begun with an impulsive eighteen year old girl kissing a boy she had met minutes before. "Goodbye, Minerva," he whispered.

And without looking back he walked through the door and back to his own time, on the first of September, nineteen ninety-eight: the world where he was her student for one more year.

* * *

XOX

* * *

Minerva McGonagall, Headmistress of Hogwarts, wanted to pretend that she hadn't noticed the way Harry Potter was looking at her now. Something had changed, from his point of view, while for her that same _something_ had hit her in the face when Harry had returned to Hogwarts for the start of his fifth year. That was when she'd known, for certain, that Mister Potter was _her_ Harry. She'd suspected since he'd come to Hogwarts initially, although when he'd been born and she'd met the infant she hadn't even considered. It shouldn't matter anymore, and she dearly wished it didn't. If she was honest with herself, Minerva knew that until Harry's fifth year it had been a small smile on her lips to consider that the Boy-Who-Bloody-Lived would grow up to be the young man she'd kissed all those years ago.

She'd been very defensive of him at that point. First, against Umbridge, and then against anyone who thought to threaten him. When Albus had died, and she'd found him in the Head's office, she'd desperately wanted to reach out and hold him. She'd tried to tell herself that the love she felt toward Harry was maternal, as it should have been, but the memory of _kissing_ those perfect lips made it impossible to see Harry as a surrogate son, no matter how young he was. At the same time, he was a _child_ , so she couldn't allow herself to see him romantically. But he was _something_ to her, and yet she was nothing to him but a trusted Professor, and that's how it needed to remain.

When she'd seen Harry next, it was nearly a year later, and that year had changed him from a boy into a man. When Severus - _gods, Severus!_ \- had raised his wand to Harry in the Great Hall, it had been a real moment of truth as she chose between them. Did she defend Harry Potter, Chosen One and the man whose kiss tasted like heaven, or Severus Snape, her best friend's son and her godson? It had been remarkably easy to choose, and she was a bit ashamed of herself when she later found out that Severus wasn't a traitor after all. She wasn't ashamed because she'd have chosen Severus had she not thought he'd betrayed her, but because even if she'd known then that he was really on their side, she still would have defended Harry.

After the Battle, Harry had remained at Hogwarts for just over a month, helping with the rebuilding, before spending some time at Sirius' place with Ronald and Hermione. All three of the Golden Trio had returned to the school on the first of September, determined to finish their educations properly. Well, Minerva thought that it was likely Hermione who wanted to finish her education properly, and she'd badgered the boys into joining her. Ronald and Hermione were dating, _finally_ , though it appeared that Harry and Ginny had broken off their relationship over the summer.

That particular bit of information should not have mattered to Minerva all that much, but she couldn't help but remember the first time she'd seen Harry, and how he'd admitted to not having a girlfriend. On September the first, Minerva realized that if Harry had not gone back in time over the summer, then he surely would before long. On September the ninth, Minerva had caught Harry's eye as he walked into the Great Hall for breakfast, and for the first time in her memory he didn't smile. He looked confused and pained and Minerva knew exactly why.

That had been ten days ago. In classes, she had been _Professor McGonagall_ to him and he had been _Mister Potter_ to her, and no one was any the wiser. "Three feet on Transfiguration applied dueling for homework, due on Monday," she ordered, flicking her wand and causing the assignment to appear on the board. "Dismissed."

She had her back to the students, collecting the items spread all over her desk during the course of the day, as shuffling papers and books sounded behind her, and then the sound of footsteps leaving the room one by one. Then, to her surprise, just about the time she thought every student had gone, she heard the sound of someone walking toward her, and she stopped moving. She thought she knew who it was, but she couldn't bring herself to turn around and look and be certain.

"Minerva," Harry whispered.

She took a breath and turned to face him. "Harry," she replied softly. "Please don't."

"Don't what?" he asked. "Call you by name? Ask myself questions about how I really feel about you? Kiss you?"

She shivered at the very idea of his lips. "It's been a long time for me. And I told you not to pine away."

"It's not even been two weeks for me," he defended himself. "And do tell me how I'm supposed to get over something… _someone_ that I've cared about for years. Maybe those kisses were with a stranger to you, but for me… gods Minerva, I feel like I've been blind, to not see how much I care for you before."

"I'm an old woman, Harry," Minerva stated crisply. "It would have been odd if you _had_ considered me in such a manner before. And regardless of what you may think you're feeling, I am _still_ an old woman and you are a very young man. What we shared then was something special, but it's not something that can continue."

"Why?" he asked, stepping forward until his body was flush against hers, and her bum was pressed into her desk.

"I just told you why," she said breathlessly. Gods! How the hell did he _do_ this? How did he make her feel like she was floating on air with not a concern in the world. "Harry, no. I am old enough to be your grandmother for the love of Merlin!"

He placed a tender kiss on the underside of her jaw as his hands slid around her waist and pulled her against him. "I don't care," he said. "I can't stop thinking about you."

Minerva couldn't resist tilting her head so that their lips were a fraction of an inch apart, as she fell into his embrace. "We shouldn't…"

Harry's lips brushed against hers lightly. "I don't care," he repeated.

"It's wrong," she pleaded, even as her teeth nipped at his bottom lip.

"I want you," he confessed, hands sliding down her back, over the curve of her still slender waistline, and rested low on her hips.

For a moment, nothing was said and neither moved so much as a centimeter except for their heaving chests. Then, she kissed him, because at that point, how could she not? He gripped her waist and lifted her up onto her desk as the kiss began to deepen, and tongues began to dance.

He still tasted like heaven.

"Please don't stop," Minerva begged, thinking of the twenty-two years between the first kiss and the second, and the twenty-three years between that second kiss and this one. All that time, trying to forget and always remembering how it felt to have her soul laid bare before this man, and knowing it could never be more than those moments. Now, as much as good sense wanted to push him away for all the right reasons, she couldn't let him go. "Don't stop," she said again, a tear falling down her cheek.

"I won't," he promised seriously.

She felt him let go of her with one hand and reach for his wand, with which he locked the door and warded the room, and transfigured her desk into a large four-poster bed. Perhaps he was being presumptuous, but the truth was that had he not just made a bed, she'd have done so a minute later. Minerva made quick work of Harry's school robe and Gryffindor tie, anxious to remove reminders that he was, in fact, her student.

Harry, in turn, unclasped her heavy, outer teaching robe and helped her shrug it off her shoulders before he gently laid her down on her back and pulled away the garment completely. His hands slid below the hem of her inner robe, pushing the fabric higher and higher as his fingers slid up each leg, pushing her thighs apart in the process.

She shivered as his thumbs brushed the apex, and whimpered as he took his cool hands away from her burning flesh. As Minerva began unbuttoning his white button down shirt, he made short work of the laces on her corset, cupping a breast as soon as it fell away. "Gods, _Harry_ ," she moaned, hip arching as he leaned into her, pelvis to pelvis with too much fabric in the way.

At that point, it was a series of frenzied movements to remove what remained of their respective clothing before he was against her again, this time flesh on flesh and the scent of Minerva's excitement in the air. Harry's hard cock slid against her, rubbing against her clit in slow motion, both wizard and witch groaning at the contact.

"You're perfect," Harry murmured as his lips latched around one of her breasts. "So fucking beautiful, Minerva…"

"Need...you…" she panted, arching into him, core throbbing like she'd never in all her life felt. "Gods, how I need you…"

His face lifted and he looked her in the eye, watching her expression as he thrust inside of her slowly, and then out and in again at about the same pace, and then out and in a third time, this time quick and hard. "That's it love," he said as her eyes rolled back, on the edge of something truly wonderful.

Again, he thrust, strong and steady, grinding his pelvis against hers in a roll before each thrust back, hitting her clit and bringing her ever closer to her release. "Harry…" she choked out, needing him to kiss her again but unable to form the words.

Lucky for Minerva, he seemed to know what she meant by the pleading way she'd called his name, and he sank into her, breasts melding against firm muscle and lips coming together fiercely as he continued to pound into her. "Come for me, Minerva," he cooed into her shoulder. On one hand, he balanced the better part of his weight, and with the other hand he reached up and gripped her throat lightly. "Come on, love."

Minerva had no idea how he could have possibly known she enjoyed such domination in bed, but the facts were what they were, and that simple grip around her airway caused her to stiffen in the best possible way, release coursing through her moments later. Harry had come undone as a direct reaction to her clamping down on him, crying out as he did. A few seconds later his body relaxed and he toppled to the side of her, both sweaty and panting.

They said nothing for a few minutes, and whatever he might have been thinking, Minerva's mind had gone from existing in utter bliss to ' _oh gods, what have I done?'_ in short order. It was a complicated feeling. She felt guilty for allowing it - sleeping with a student - to happen at all, but at the same time she felt justified in that it hadn't been just any student. It had been Harry. _Her_ Harry.

Harry sat up briefly and pulled a sheet over their naked bodies, and when she rolling away from him as to not look him in the eye, he spooned her and pulled her securely against his muscular form.

"We shouldn't have…" she whispered, gripping tightly to the arm wrapped around her, scared that he'd agree with her. "... done that."

"Made love?" he asked sleepily.

Her heart broke to hear him call it that. If it was just sex to him - an itch to be scratched by both of them - then there was still a chance they could stop while they were ahead. But love? That was not something easily walked away from, and as much as it terrified her, she knew damn well she could easily fall in love with the young man she was laying in bed with right now.

He still tasted like heaven.

"Yes," she replied, voice cracking.

Harry sighed. "I get that I'm technically your student still, but in a world where I'd not been busy killing Voldemort I'd have graduated already. Regardless, if you would prefer this doesn't happen again while I remain a student at Hogwarts, then I will respect that. I just ask that you give me an honest chance, after. You wouldn't have let… _this_ happen if the idea of what we could be didn't excite you the way it does me."

"That's a fair compromise," she agreed. "But if I am not going to touch you again for another eight months… just hold me a little longer?"

And so Harry, not saying a word, held her for hours. They missed dinner, but not his curfew. They couldn't afford anyone asking what he'd been up to all night.

* * *

XOX

* * *

It was nearly Christmas now, and Harry was doing his best to comply with Minerva's wishes regarding their relationship. He saw her in classes, stayed out of trouble, and focused on his studies. He wasn't even on the Quidditch Team anymore; his heart wasn't in it these days, and he really wasn't sure if it was because of what had happened with Minerva, or if the last year of the war had just taken what little youth he'd had left. It wasn't that he suddenly hated Quidditch, but it had stopped being fun. Besides, he imagined that seeing her in the stands and watching her cheer for the Gryffindor team - for him - would distract him to the point of being a poor excuse of a player in any case.

"Harry?" Hermione said, sitting in the seat next to him. Currently, he was secreted away in the Library working on his Transfiguration homework. He wanted to really get this stuff, in part to impress her and in part so they he could prove they had some commonalities. Maybe it wasn't defense, but given what he now knew about his dad, a part of Harry was really interested in working to become an animagus. If he was lucky, he'd manage it before NEWTS and be able to grab that fifty points worth of extra credit on the exam.

"What, Hermione?" he asked tiredly.

"Harry, I'm worried about you," she said quietly.

He looked up from his book and sat down the quill he'd been taking notes with, giving Hermione his undivided attention. "Why's that?" he asked.

"You've been… well, out of sorts the last few months. "You were alright after the battle, and you processed everything with me and Ron over the summer… but then when we came back to Hogwarts, something shifted. I wonder if it's been too hard on you to be here, where it all happened."

He laughed. "While I'll admit that sometimes I close my eyes and see things as they were at the Battle, and while I'll admit that in some ways it's difficult to be here after that, it is not what has me… out of sorts."

"Well then," she said, crossing her arms. "What is it then?"

Were in Ron asking, he'd absolutely not consider telling the truth, because as much as Harry loved his best mate, Ron tended to be a bit narrow minded. He wouldn't understand. Hermione, however, was very open minded and through hell and high water, she'd always had his back, even when she'd not agreed. Further, while he'd kept things from Ron in the past, he'd never had secrets from Hermione in all the years they'd been friends. It felt... _wrong_ to start now. "You have to swear not to tell Ron any of this. I know you guys are going out, but I'm not ready for him to know."

She nodded, and lifted her wand to cast some wards, protecting their privacy for as long as they needed. "You can tell me anything, Harry. You know that."

"Well, the day we got back - mind you I'm still not sure _how_ it happened at all - but I was transported back in time to nineteen seventy-five," he began. "At the same time, Professor McGonagall was transported to the same place, the same time, but from a different point. For her, she traveled forward twenty-odd years, which meant that we were both eighteen."

"Wow!" Hermione exclaimed, looking excited at the notion.

"I was thinking of Professor Snape at the time I was transported, and I think she was too, or at least she was thinking about the idea of him, because where she was from he hadn't been born yet. As a result, we were transported to him directly," Harry continued. "Anyway, we chatted with teen Snape for a bit and then decided to go find Dumbledore. We'd almost made it there when… seriously Hermione please don't freak out…"

"I won't," she promised.

"Minerva kissed me."

Hermione's eyes went wide, and Harry wasn't sure if that was more to do with the idea of the kiss, or the implications that using Minerva's given name might suggest. "Oh my."

"And I kissed her back," he kept on, wanting to get through the back story quickly. "Anyway, a minute after that, the Minerva from _that time_ came round the corner, and she knew how to send us home because for her, it had already happened, you know?"

"It, including that kiss," Hermione surmised.

"Yeah," Harry confirmed, grateful his friend was smart and could follow this, no matter how strange and twisted it might be. "And so she sent her younger counterpart through first, and then I was about to leave and I…" he blushed.

"You kissed her?" she asked, not looking surprised at all.

"Yeah, and it was intense, Hermione, really damn intense," he said. "After that, we talked a minute, she told me to let go of any ideas I was having because I had to come home and here she was way too old for me and what not, and then I came back."

"And that's what has you in a funk? Trying to move past what happened? A good snog that you know full well will never become more than that?" Hermione frowned.

He sighed. "I got back, and I tried to do all that and remember all that but I just bloody couldn't. I started thinking about who she is now, and how much I already cared for her before all this happened. Then, two weeks after it all I was going to sleep and I asked myself if I was falling in love with her."

"Harry…" Hermione said, using her ' _oh no you don't_ ' tone of voice.

"So that was a terrifying thought because hey, there was no way anything could happen between me and Minerva," he kept on going. "So I decided that maybe it was closure that I needed, yeah? So I decided maybe if I talked to her, she'd tell me for sure there was no chance. I thought maybe if I got frisky with her, she'd reject me outright and my heart could break all in one go, and then I could move on. I was prepared for every possible version of rejection she might have cooked up."

Hermione was looking very concerned at this point. "What happened, Harry?" she asked softly.

"We made love," he said frankly.

That had not been what Hermione was expecting. Like Harry, she anticipated some sort of rejection. After all, a couple of kisses couldn't mean so much that it carried through that many years. "You what?" she asked dumbly.

"Minerva and I made love," he repeated. "And after, she tried to make it out like it would never happen again, and I promised her that I'd stay away while I was a student, under the condition that she give us a chance after graduation."

"Well if she agreed to that, then it sounds like there's no problem," Hermione said, looking confused.

"The problem is that I'm a hormonal teenager who really wants to have sex again, and I'm a man completely in love and really wants to show that to the woman who has my heart," he expressed. "I'm also the insecure bloke I've always been, and I'm worried that if I do what I said, keep away, that by the time the end of the school year comes she'll either have gotten over her interest in me or come up with a list of reasons why we would never work out!"

"Ah," Hermione said. "So as usual, you're overthinking things."

He rubbed his temples. "What should I do, Hermione? Also, how are you not freaking out? Ron would be freaking out. You do know how old Minerva is, right?"

"Of course I know," she snapped. "Old enough to know when a bloke is worth giving her heart to. Old enough to be patient while you finish school as not to risk her career or your future, and old enough that she would never have gone to bed with you if she wasn't already mad for your insecure self. And I am freaking out, Harry. I'm just doing so inside my head because right now you need me and that's what's more important. Age is just a number, as far as I'm concerned, but others won't agree, and they will be cruel, and I hate to see you suffer."

"I don't care what people say," he declared. "I love her."

"What about Ron?"

Harry frowned. "I imagine as usual he'll blow up and then get over it. Especially if you voice your support in my favor."

"What in the world would you two idiots do without me?" she asked, laughing.

* * *

XOX

* * *

Minerva missed Harry. Of course, she saw him in classes, but that was all, and in that environment he was just her student. Not her lover. It was Christmas morning, and the sun was still on the rise, so it was quite the surprise when she heard a knock on her door. She wrapped her warm night robe tightly around her middle and went to answer the door, thinking it a student who needed help for some reason. It was a student, but when Harry smiled at her, she knew he was not coming to see her in that capacity. "You shouldn't be here," she rebuked softly.

He took a step forward and hand reached up to brush a wisp of hair away from her eyes. "It's Christmas. I wanted to see you."

Despite herself, she sighed and leaned into his touch. "Get in here," she said after a minute. "We can't be seen like this."

He nodded and followed her inside. As soon as she'd closed the door he grabbed her wrist and pulled her close, catching her lips in a searing kiss. She responded eagerly, though within a minute the kiss had gone from passionate to tender. It didn't lack in sincerity, but it wasn't about sex. It was about reaffirming their connection. "I love you," Harry whispered into her ear. "I know I shouldn't, but I do."

"Harry…" she whimpered. "Oh Harry."

Minerva couldn't say it back. It wasn't that she didn't feel it - she did - but she was afraid. She was afraid of loving anyone like that, much less someone so much younger. Harry's social status didn't help matters. He was the Boy-Who-Lived, and everyone expected so much of him; so much more than to couple with a much older woman. So much more than the stigma of being in a relationship with someone who was his Professor. So much more than _her_. Minerva was certain that by the end of the year, he'd realize the same and she'd have to let him go. Even though it would break her heart.

"You don't have to say it," he assured her, as if reading her mind. "I know. I know you're scared, and I know why. I also know we wouldn't be here if you didn't feel it too…"

She rested her forehead on his shoulder. "You should go. I'm sure your friends are waking up by now and starting to pack."

"I know," Harry replied, hugging her tightly before letting go of his grip and stepping back. "I just wanted to wish you a happy Christmas. And to give you this…"

He handed her a small box, which she took with a raised eyebrow. "I didn't get you anything."

Harry shrugged. "I didn't get you something with any expectation of return. I just wanted to give you something… something I hope will ease some of your worries."

Minerva set to unwrapping the box, and let out a little gasp. It was a silver ring with two hands holding a crown bearing heart. It was a Claddagh ring. Harry took the ring out of the box and reached for her right hand, slipping it on the ring finger, facing inward. "Do you know what that means, to wear the Claddagh like this?" she whispered.

He nodded. "If you leave it like this, it means that you're being courted. I want to be yours, Minerva. I want to be the man in your life, and after I graduate, I hope you'll let me move the ring to your left hand. I've thought a lot about this…"

The ring box clattered to the ground as she lept into his open arms and kissed him soundly. While Merlin knew she still had her doubts about if he was really at a maturity level where he could honestly be sure of what he'd want - _who_ he wanted - in the long term, but she couldn't help but feel assured by the fact that he had given more than the immediate future with her some serious thought.

After a few more kisses, she pushed him out the door, and grinning like a teenaged girl she got dressed for the day. She'd see him in the Great Hall in less than an hour for breakfast, after which he and his friends would be leaving for the holiday, and after that it would be two weeks before she'd see him again. Despite herself, she was glad he'd decided to stop by.

Just under an hour later, Minerva took a seat at the Head Table between Filius and Pomona, the latter of which took no time at all to notice the ring on her finger. "Minerva!" she gasped. "Is that what I think it is?"

The Headmistress had not been able to talk herself into glamouring the ring, and she sure as hell wasn't going to take it off. As much as good sense said she should not have let others see it, she reasoned that she was under no obligation to tell anyone _who_ was courting her. "I'd imagine so," Minerva answered her friend, earning a squeal.

"You didn't tell me you were seeing anyone!" Pomona admonished her. "Tell. Me. Everything."

"He's…" she paused, wanting to be truthful without sharing too much. "Someone from my past, who recently came back into my life. I first met him right after I graduated Hogwarts, and then I didn't see him again for over twenty years. There was obviously chemistry between us, but it wasn't the right time to consider pursuing anything. We crossed paths again only a few months ago, right after term started, actually, and decided to finally explore what was between us."

"Well if he gave you that, I take it he's quite serious," Pomona remarked, and Filius nodded in agreement.

"I believe he is, and while I have some doubts about if we could last in the long term, I cannot help but be hopeful," she shared.

"What makes you think things wouldn't last?" Filius inquired. "If the chemistry between you has lasted all these years, that I'd imagine it would continue."

"Oh the chemistry is not in question," Minerva agreed. "He affects me in a way no other ever has. However, we still know so little of each other. Our respective lives don't lend for much quality time together, and I don't believe that will change before the end of this school year."

"If you believe he is worth your affections, my friend, then you should make the time," Filius stated. "Even if it only be in letters that you're able to communicate."

"What's his name, anyhow?" Pomona asked.

Minerva smiled, thinking of the name that was listed on her beloved's birth certificate, which he never used. "His name is _Harold_."

"Harold and Minerva sitting in a tree!" the Herbology Professor sang. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"

"Honestly Pomona, could you be more juvenile?"

"Is he a good kisser?" her friend asked, ignoring the rebuke.

The Scottish witch sighed. "He tastes like heaven," she murmured, sparing a glance at the student body, and blushing she and Harry's eyes met, and he puckered his lips just barely as if to kiss her from across the room. Her blush increased greatly when she realized that Hermione Granger was watching the exchange, a knowing ghost of a smile on her face that spoke of support.

Yes, Minerva would send Harry a letter. Filius was right, there was no reason they couldn't start the process of getting to know one another while they waited for the end of the school year to come.

* * *

XOX

* * *

Letters between Minerva and Harry had worked out rather splendidly. He was able to learn more about her, and she about him. Harry chuckled to himself as he thought about when he'd shared the true extent of what Delores Umbridge had done to him and his friends, and how an hour later she'd stormed into the Gryffindor Common Room demanding he come to her office. Of course, aside from Hermione, his friends thought he'd done something horribly wrong to earn an impromptu detention, and he wasn't about to tell them what had _really_ happened. It had involved his lips all over her body, and tasting her in a way he'd never tasted another woman. He'd returned to the dorms two hours later feeling very smug, having left her in a sated pile of limp limbs still in her bed, after a whispered goodnight. That had been in March, and it was nearing the end of May now. Graduation was just around the corner, and Harry was presently sitting in the Library with Ron and Hermione, fidgeting like mad. He ached for Minerva.

"What's wrong with you, mate?" Ron asked, noticing how agitated his friend was acting.

"Just…"

"Missing _her_?" Hermione asked point blank.

"Hermione!" Harry yelped, aghast that she'd drop such a large hint in front of Ron.

"Oh come on, Harry," his brainy best friend huffed. "Graduation is only a few weeks away. Don't you want Ron to find out about your _girlfriend_ before the rest of the school does?"

Harry grudgingly admitted to himself that she was right. He did not want Ron to find out when everyone else did, and he and Minerva had already agreed that after graduation, there would be no more hiding. Neither of them were big fans of secrets.

"Girlfriend, Harry?" Ron asked. "Since when, and why the big secret?"

"Since September, and because if the wrong people find out before graduation, it would cause… problems," he replied, eyeing his friend carefully. "I want to tell you, mate, but I need your word that no matter how you feel about it, you'll keep it to yourself for the next couple of weeks."

Ron shrugged. "I promise," he agreed. "If Hermione knows who she is and approves then it can't be all that bad. She's not a Slytherin, is she?"

"No!" Harry laughed. "She is _all_ Gryffindor."

Hermione sniggered at that. "That's an understatement!"

"Okay guys, the suspense is killing me," Ron grumbled good naturedly. "Out with it. Why is dating a fellow Gryffindor so scandal worthy?"

"I'm seeing Minerva," Harry whispered.

Ron stared. "I'm sorry, but did you just say _Minerva_? As in... _McGonagall?!_ As in our _bloody_ professor?"

"Yup," Harry said. "That's her."

"So McGonagall's mystery beau, the one who gave her the Claddagh ring she never, ever takes off… is _you_ , Harry?"

He nodded. "See why it's been a secret?"

Ron laughed. "Well, yeah! Mate, that's insane! But… the ring, Harry. You're not just having a fling with her, are you? You're really serious about...well... _her_."

"I'm going to ask her to marry me," Harry confided. "We've already agreed to stop hiding our relationship once I've graduated, but she doesn't know I'm going to propose. I want to surprise her."

Hermione grinned. "How are you going to propose, Harry? I mean, she's already got the Claddagh ring and that can be used as an engagement ring if it's moved to her left hand, but are you going to get another ring as well?"

"At the going away feast, and I've already been to Gringotts and gotten my Potter crest ring, which by the old traditions I need to be wearing to be considering Head of my House and thereby in a position to take a wife. I don't plan to get her a second ring at this point - we'll pick out a wedding set together, I'd imagine."

Ron shook his head. "You're going to marry McGonagall. Unbelievable! How did that even _happen_?"

Harry spent the rest of the afternoon talking to his two best friends about how he'd come to be with Minerva, grinning like a fool most of the time and enduring more than a few uncouth questions from Ron. Hermione, of course, set to work right away helping him come up the perfect proposal.

* * *

XOX

* * *

Minerva took a deep breath and evaluated herself in the mirror. The graduation ceremony was over, and so it was down to just the going away feast, which was being held outside today given the extra large graduating class and the fact that many of their families had stuck around after the ceremony. If she knew Harry, and she _did,_ he was planning something. They'd agreed after today not to hide their relationship, and in Harry's mind, that was likely to mean some grand declaration. Her beau had a thing for the dramatic, and in any case - however mad she thought he was for it - Harry was proud to be with her. While the Board of Governors would not be happy when they found out the Headmistress was shagging the Boy-Who-Lived, legally there was nothing they could do to her, career wise. In order to have her dismissed, they'd have to have proof something happened while Harry was underage, which they wouldn't find because nothing _had_ happened before he turned seventeen. Regardless, even if they did find some way to fire her, she found that she didn't much care. She had Harry. That was more than she'd ever dreamed could happen.

Half hour later, Minerva took her seat at the teacher's table. The going away feast had been set up on the Quidditch Pitch, which had existing weather protection charms in place that she only needed to activate should it start to rain. She spotted Harry talking to Hermione and Ronald, who were seated next to the rest of the Weasley clan. The way he was fidgeting in his seat told Minerva that whatever he was going to do was going to happen soon, and she fiddled with her Claddagh ring at the thought. She was ready for this. She was ready to be his in the open.

Pomona and Poppy took notice to her action, and she blushed. "When are you going to introduce us to your mystery suitor?" Poppy inquired.

The whole fact that she _had_ a beau had become a source of endless chatter among the staff, especially those who had known her the longest. "By the end of the day," she said. "We've kept our relationship quiet for a good reason, but we agreed that after today, there would be no more hiding. I expect he'll do something terribly Gryffindor by way of announcement. Trust me, when he makes his move, you won't miss it."

Pomona grinned. "What does he look like?"

At that moment, Harry stood from his table and started to weave toward where she was seated. "Dark hair," she whispered, still watching him. "Green eyes. Glasses. He's very handsome."

Harry was almost to her by now, and the others had not yet noticed.

"His smile makes me melt," she continued. "And his kisses taste like heaven."

And there he was. "Professors," he greeted the table. "Might I borrow the Headmistress for a minute?"

She chuckled. "Really, Harry?"

"Really," he said, grinning at his lover.

She stood and moved to the other side of the table where he was standing, and when he took her hand and kneeled on one knee, the staff exploded in gasps, and the rest of the people looked their way in confusion. "Oh Merlin…" she whispered, realizing what he was about to to.

"I knew you were special the day we met, and it didn't take long before I could honestly claim to care for you," he began. "A year ago, we met under some unusual circumstances, and it allowed me to see you in a different manner - to see you as a woman. At that point, well, how could I _not_ fall in love with you? At Christmas, I gave you a ring as a promise that I was committed to being the man in your life, for as long as you'd have me, and today, I ask if you'll consent to me making that promise again, this time in a more binding manner which will allow us to share our love away from the shadows, and begin to build a life together. Minerva McGonagall… will you marry me?"

There was no noise at all as Harry pulled the ring off her right hand, and positioned it at the tip of her left ring finger, waiting for her answer. She was blushing and grinning like a fool as she nodded her head and forced out on word. " _Yes_ ," she said.

He let out the breath he'd obviously been holding, slipped the ring in place to signify an engagement, and stood. Harry wasted no time at all lunging forward and pressing a kiss to her lips, which she responded to with such enthusiasm that she was hardly aware of the cheers and chatter that had erupted around them. As the kiss slowly ended, the couple turned toward the teacher's table.

Poppy was fanning herself and taking deep breaths. "Minerva!" she exclaimed.

Minerva raised an eyebrow. "I believe you all know Harold Potter."

Harry chuckled, remember the letter where Minerva had explained what she'd told the staff about the identity of her suitor. "We're sorry for the deception," he said kindly. "Though I'm sure you all understand why we needed to keep things quiet for the duration of the school year."

"Obviously," Filius replied, looking amused. "Well done… _Harry_ , and congratulations to you and Minerva."

"Thank you, _Filius_ ," Harry replied in kind. "I know we can count on all of your support."

The whole staff body nodded, even those who seemed unsure about the match. He was still Harry Potter, the man who killed the evil that was Voldemort, and none of them were inclined to go against him.

"I'm sure Molly is anxious to rebuke me in full measure," Minerva said with a surprise. "Shall we go join your friends, love?"

He grinned, and pressed another lingering kiss to her lips. "Let's. She'll get over it, I promise. Her primary concern is my happiness, and besides, Ron and Hermione will help keep her under control."

"Well that's something," she said as they began walking toward the Weasley family. Minerva looked at everyone watching them, and was a bit surprised to find out that the greater percentage of people here were offering thumbs up and congratulations, obviously in support of their relationship. Certainly there were some who looked appalled, and some who looked angry, but on a whole it seemed that the people were, at the least, accepting.

"I love you so much," Harry whispered, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"And I love you," she whispered in reply, saying the words for the first time.

This, to no surprise, resulted in Harry spinning her around and catching her in another toe curling kiss. As always, he tasted like heaven.

* * *

XOX

* * *

 **PLEASE REVIEW! I've got a crazy couple of weeks ahead of me in prep for a cross country move, which is super stressful, and I could very much use the pick me up. You guys are the best!**


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